by E M Lindsey
Rowan nodded in spite of knowing he should be running in the other direction. His heart was in his hands, open and vulnerable, and he was about to hand it over to someone he was probably never going to see again. “I’ll stay with you,” he said. He closed his eyes as James leaned in, and gave him the most gentle, most chaste kiss he’d ever had. And his head was spinning from it.
He jolted when James stepped away from him, only just catching himself from tripping forward. James gave him a soft smile and a mock salute, then turned and walked into the restaurant without another word.
Rowan stood there, breathing until he had himself under control, and hated himself just a little for being so damn weak where James was concerned. You’re a stupid fuck, he thought, but not even God Himself could have made him change his mind.
Chapter Fourteen
Rowan was a mess after court, though not because of the ruling. Sam had gotten everything he’d wanted and more. The adoption was just over the horizon, and Rowan had let the man pull him down and into an embrace that lingered for a small eternity.
“Thank you,” he’d whispered, half in tears and probably still afraid that someone would come in at any second and revoke everything he’d just won. But Rowan had assured him this was it. His new caseworker would be on their absolute and best behavior. He’d never be asked to take another class again, and no one was giving Maisy to strange relatives, no matter who they were.
“I’ll be back for the adoption hearing,” Rowan assured him. It would be his final time setting foot in Colorado, he was pretty sure. Of course, Rowan knew he couldn’t predict the future, that the universe liked to surprise the shit out of him. So instead of saying that, he just assured Sam he wouldn’t be facing this alone, and he could always count on Rowan if the need arose.
He meant every word. He just hoped Sam wouldn’t call him back. Walking away from James the next morning would be difficult enough, and he’d already resolved not to see him in any capacity during the adoption hearing, which would test every ounce of control he had. If Sam called him back a third time—for any reason—Rowan would show up, but he wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to leave again.
If his mother was still alive, if he had anything set up in his personal life, he’d abandon it, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live with the guilt. Tonight was dangerous enough. But he was giving himself this last indulgence. James wanted Rowan in ways Rowan had been dreaming about since seeing the man in the bar all those weeks ago, and he wasn’t going to deny himself a last hurrah.
James knew what he was getting into, and Rowan used that to comfort himself as he drove back to the office for one last sweep, and to send the retainer checks out for the client transfers. It was bittersweet in a way. Rowan had been in that office for a few years, but he’d never really grown attached. He liked Colorado well enough, but damn if it wouldn’t have been so much easier to not let himself feel for a person the way he’d always prevented in the past.
“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he told his reflection in the front window. He looked wrecked—exhausted, hair mussed from how many times he pushed his fingers into it. His eyes were rimmed with dark bags from his lack of sleep, and he knew he’d dropped a few pounds from his lacking appetite since the moment he learned about his mom.
The sun was dipping low on the horizon, so Rowan pocketed the keys, making the drive over to the real estate office to drop them off and sign the final papers to close the sale. It was done without fanfare—the people hadn’t become his friends, they were just a faceless entity that cashed his checks each month.
Tying things up was making his heart hurt a little, so he decided a last tour wasn’t necessary and the moment he was free, he hopped on the road and went straight to Fairfield. For whatever reason, that tiny little town with its seven restaurants, one tattoo shop, and adorable little florist was going to be the hardest thing to say goodbye to.
He tried not to stare as he navigated the streets, taking the turn toward James’, his car bumping along the barely maintained road. He felt a pang of sadness he didn’t get to see James actually working in his shop before he had to go. It was an image he’d like to take with him—James’ muscles bulging, grease coating his hands, the look of intense concentration on his face. Not that Rowan was lacking in images that he would keep with him until he died, but when it came to James, he felt more greedy than he ever had before.
With a breath, he pulled up to the house, his car fitting nicely beside James’ truck, and he allowed himself a moment of open grief before getting out. He didn’t want to bring his cloying sadness with him inside. It was one night—one night, and part of an early dawn, and that’s all. It would have to be enough. He swiped at his eyes, grateful that in spite of the heat he felt there, they were dry, and he got out of the car.
He didn’t bother taking his bag with him. He was happy to leave for the airport with the smell of James’ release in places, happy to look fucked-out and rumpled and far from the put together man he always tried to present to the world. Dragging a hand through his hair, Rowan made his way up the ramp to the front door and knocked with a bravery that was almost entirely fake.
It took a while for James to answer—long enough Rowan was starting to feel like the other man had changed his mind. His heart was beating a staccato rhythm that would have worried him if not for his dick, which was already swelling in his boxers. James looked as edible as ever—freshly showered and wearing a stained white t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. He was wearing his prosthetics that didn’t have the foam over the tops, the metal glinting in the faint porchlight.
He was just so…James.
Rowan’s mouth went dry, and he licked at his lips. “Hey. Am I too late?”
James shook his head with a small grin, and he stepped aside, beckoning Rowan in. Rowan’s feet felt too loud on the hard floors, and he winced at the sound of the door closing. It wouldn’t open again until morning, and that would be the end.
Fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut and got control of himself before turning around. It was insane, the way he was feeling. He barely knew the guy, they’d fucked twice, and he should not be this torn up about it.
“I made dinner,” James said quietly from his place behind him.
Rowan bowed his head, then managed a smile when he turned around. “You know, I’m not that hungry.”
James’ laugh was easy, just like the three steps he took to close the distance between them. “Yeah? Me neither.”
Rowan’s hands were on him before he was consciously aware of it, tugging the other man against him. He felt the bite of James’ metal legs against his shins, the sharp way James’ fingers dug into the fleshy part of his waist right below his ribs, the hot puff of breath as James exhaled just centimeters from his mouth.
“Bedroom?” Rowan managed, right before there was no space between them. His lips parted without hesitation, letting James push his tongue inside. It was slick and hot, the faint aftertaste of coffee and something spicy. Rowan groaned, his hand drifting to cup the back of James’ head. His shorn hair, growing just a bit, pricked against Rowan’s palm, and he fucking loved it.
“This way,” James growled when he finally ripped his mouth away. He didn’t disengage completely, his hand finding Rowan’s in a fierce grip. The walk to James’ room was short, the room a little chilly and smelled fresh from the breeze coming through the open window. It was familiar in a surprising way, and Rowan felt overwhelmed by it.
“Bathroom,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Can I…”
James chuckled and nodded toward the door of his en suite, letting Rowan pull away from his grasp with a reluctant release of his fingers. Rowan contemplated saying fuck it and just throwing himself in to the moment, but he needed to collect himself. If he was going to make this night as perfect as he could get it, he had to move slowly.
The door shut with a firm click, and Rowan walked over to the sink. James’ bathroom was tidier than most of his house, shining taps and
a polished counter glowing in the soft overhead lights. Rowan’s hand looked starkly tanned against the white marble as he splayed his fingers out, and he dared to look up at his reflection.
He looked haggard, and it was a miracle James found him attractive at all in this moment. The weight of his future, and the possibilities he was giving up, was almost too heavy for him to shoulder. He’d endured worse, so he’d get through this, but by now, he thought he would have been finished with making sacrifices that only led to his misery.
Gulping down his frustrations and pain, he turned on the tap and washed his hands, cupping them under the stream to splash water on his face. He felt blindly for a towel, stepping near the toilet to grab the one hanging near the shower, and as he swiped the drops from his face, his eyes glanced down and he saw familiar packaging and refuse sitting in the trash bin.
His heart hammered again and his dick went instantly hard as he realized James had thoroughly prepared for this. Fuck. “Fuck,” he whispered aloud. He couldn’t help but imagine James awkwardly filling himself, releasing it all, getting himself ready for whatever Rowan wanted to do. Which was everything, he decided. Or at least, as much as James would allow him. Rowan wanted to play with him, make him desperate and weak with want. He wanted to finger him and fill him, plug him and make him wait. He wanted to spread him out face-first on the bed and eat him out until James was crying.
He considered undressing, but changed his mind at the thought of James’ hands tugging at his clothes. He opened the door and stuttered to a halt when he found James on the bed, legs off and thighs spread, the slit in his boxers open. His cock jutted out proudly, James’ fist working it in a slow stroke.
“Christ,” Rowan muttered, then flinched because he didn’t want to offend James.
The other man didn’t seem bothered. He just smiled and stared as Rowan crossed the distance between them and knelt one knee up on the bed. “You’re very dressed.”
“I wasn’t sure,” Rowan started, then shook his head. He mourned a little not getting to be the one who unwrapped James, but seeing him like this was consolation enough. He stepped back to the floor and carefully unbuttoned his shirt. It fell in a soft thwump at his feet, his trousers to follow. He shuffled out of his socks, then crawled on top of the duvet and put both hands on the tops of James’ thighs as he knelt between his legs. His own blank skin looked so stark compared to the harsh ink carved into the other man, and he found he kind of loved it.
His hands drifted upward, to the highest part of the tattoo on James’ left thigh. James’ leg twitched under him, and the man laughed. “I got the biggest erection from that one.”
Rowan’s fingers dug into him almost involuntarily.
“During the tattoo?” he asked.
James chuckled again. “There’s a nerve there that’s…” He breathed out, the sound a little shaky. “Someone with a vagina could probably come from it, if you hit it right. I got pretty close near the end there as he did the shading.”
Rowan felt an almost irrational surge of jealousy as he stared at the inked gears under his fingers. “Who did it?”
“Derek finished up that one,” James told him.
“Did he see your uh…”
“Yes,” James breathed out. “I probably would have been mortified, but Derek’s got this way about him that won’t let you feel ashamed of who you are, or how your body reacts. If I hadn’t trusted him…” James’ words trailed off with a faint moan as Rowan lowered his mouth and scraped his teeth along the lines. He drifted upward, letting his tongue trace the images, nosing into his thick hair, running his parted lips along his impossibly hard shaft. He stopped at the tip, his tongue dipping in to lap at the beads of precome, and he smiled a little as James’ fingers found their way into his hair.
“You’re gonna kill me, darlin’,” James groaned.
“Mm, not yet,” Rowan said, then he opened his mouth wide and sank down. He didn’t intend to bring James to climax—at least, not right away. He just wanted a taste of him, to imprint the way James’ cock felt sliding down his throat before it was gone forever. He closed his eyes and pulled back up in a slow drag, letting his tongue linger half out of his mouth when he finally pulled away.
“You’re so,” James stuttered in a strangled voice.
Rowan didn’t ask him to complete his thought. He gripped James by both hips, situating himself so their groins were pressed together. James’ hard cock pressed along his own, which was still behind the thin barrier of his boxers, and it was probably that alone which kept him from coming like a teenager. “You cleaned yourself out for me.”
He could feel the way James’ skin heated with his blush, and he found it endearing, the way James’ eyes darted off to the side. “I got some advice. I thought you might like it.”
“I do. But I would have had you either way. I like the idea of it being messy,” he admitted.
James grimaced, but it was only to hide his grin. His hand in Rowan’s hair gave a sharp tug, and then they were kissing again. It was sloppy and desperate, the way Rowan tried to claim him, merge them together until he didn’t know where he ended, and James began. He couldn’t lose this—there had to be something he could do to keep it.
He quickly cut himself off from that line of thinking when James grabbed him by the wrist and gently dragged his hand toward the curve of his ass. “I want you,” he murmured.
Rowan licked his lips as he pulled back, staring down at James’ cock jutting out of his boxers. He made a snap decision, then grabbed James by the thighs and quickly turned him onto his stomach. “Can you get comfortably up on your knees?” he asked, dragging his hand down James’ spine.
James answered by shuffling up, balancing himself delicately with his legs spread. Rowan grabbed one of the pillows and shoved it under him, then pressed James’ head down toward the mattress so only his ass was in the air.
“I’m going to eat you out, then I’m going to finger you. Do you have lube? Because I was a fucking idiot and I didn’t stop anywhere.” He closed his eyes and prayed they wouldn’t have to stop. James just nodded, waving his hand limply in the direction of his nightstand, and Rowan leaned over, scrabbling through the drawer until he found what he needed, and then some. Lube, condoms, a cock ring, medium sized plug, and a dildo that all looked brand new.
“I uh,” James said, his voice half muffled by the bedding beneath him, “I wasn’t sure what we’d need. I got some help though from this guy who works at the sex shop in Boulder.”
Rowan smiled in spite of the tiny surge of jealousy because he’d wanted to be the one who opened all of that up for James. But this would have to do. Someone might have pointed James in the right direction, but Rowan was going to be the first to use them. Rowan would be the first person ever to tease him open, to watch him stretch around a toy before he slid his cock inside him and fucked him.
He wouldn’t be the last though, and that’s what gutted him.
He breathed through the loss, then hooked his fingers in the waistband of James’ boxers and tugged. He let them pool around the base of his knees, then adjusted himself so James’ ass was right in front of him. With a gentle pull, he spread James wide open, staring at the little pucker. He had a smattering of dark, wiry hair—not enough to get in the way—and Rowan leaned down, nosing around it. It smelled freshly washed, and a little of sweat, and a lot of James, which made Rowan’s mouth water.
“Fuck,” James muttered, as Rowan pressed the pad of his thumb against him, circling gently. He brought the digit to his mouth, licking before pushing back. He used the barest pressure, just to see how James would react, and his cock twitched when he saw how readily James’ hole wanted to swallow him.
“Anything you don’t want me to do, just tell me stop. No questions, no hesitation, okay?” Rowan prodded.
James nodded, his hips wriggling a little like he couldn’t keep himself still with the anticipation of what was to come. “Okay, but I swear I’m good. I want you so
fucking bad. I’ve been thinking about this and jerking off to it all week.”
Rowan groaned, then leaned forward and gave him a firm lick, from just below his balls, all the way to the base of his spine. His cock started to leak at James’ whimper, at the way he immediately clutched the sheets. Rowan put one hand on the outside of James’ thigh to brace him, then buried his face in him and immediately went to work.
As predicted, James opened for him beautifully, taking his tongue in like Rowan was always meant to be there. James made the most delicious noises—groans, whimpers, half begging as he squirmed. When Rowan felt him reach for his cock, he darted out his hand and grabbed James by the wrist, making an impatient noise without stopping.
James got the message, dropping his hand again to the sheets, and he writhed, fucking back against Rowan’s face as Rowan slowly and methodically opened him with his mouth. It felt like it went on forever, and he was pretty sure he could make James come like this, but he didn’t want to. Not yet.
He pulled away, his face a little sticky, and he swiped his hand over his mouth before grabbing the lube. It was a fresh bottle, though opened and used some, and he tried not to picture James stroking himself and calling Rowans name, only because he wanted to last. He’d consider the toys later, but all he wanted right then was to feel himself sliding home into James’ body.
“If we had time to make sure it was safe, I’d fuck you bare,” Rowan said, leaning down to bite at James’ hip gently as he pressed his lubed finger against the place he’d just been laving with his tongue. James gasped as Rowan pushed inside, and Rowan’s cock ached with want as he felt the way James tightened around him, like he was trying to hold him in place. “I’d finger you open, maybe put the plug inside you and have you wear it for a few hours.”
“Lord,” James gasped. He turned his head to the side, breathing heavy, his brow beading with sweat. “Talk to me. Tell me what else,” he begged.
Rowan didn’t need to dig deep into his fantasy. He added the tip of his second finger, then gently eased it inside with another drizzle of lube. “I’d have you walk around all day naked, plugged up and ready for me to fuck you whenever I wanted. Maybe you’d be at the counter doing dishes, and I’d pull it out of you and shove my dick in. I’d fuck you til you came all over our kitchen cabinets.”